Invisible Affection
by Scarlet Melody
Summary: "Oh Maple..." he whispered in awe as he continued to wipe more of the makeup off. As he continued this, more and more bruises, along with minor cuts, began to reveal themselves. It sure didn't look like just a plain fist fight, by the looks of it...USCan
1. Battles

**Author's Note: **Hiya! Dang, it's been awhile since I've uploaded anything, lol. :] Anyway, new obsession: Hetalia~! So, here's a small USCan story~ I already have the second chapter halfway done, so expect fast updates!(unlike my other story, OTL)

Um, so...yeah, enjoy!

P.S. I was in a rush, so the editing may be bad...I'll fix it later though. :3

**Disclaimer:** Hetalia isn't mine. I wish it was though. XD

**oOo**

"Up." Matthew blinked. Something was nudging him...He groaned, turning away from the source, wanting to get more sleep.

"Hungry," repeated the voice. Another nudge, this one with a bit more force. Matthew hugged his pillow, closing his eyes tightly as hoping the voice would just leave. He wanted to sleep, dammit!

"Hungry," said the voice again. This time, Canada felt something sharp penetrate his arm. He squeaked loudly, sitting up instantly to find his polar bear friend's teeth just barely sunk into his arm. Not deep enough to draw blood, but defintely enough to get his attention.

"Kumagi!" Matthew said in surprise, his voice just barely revealing his anger. "Don't do that!"

"Hungry," the bear repeated with a yawn, ignoring his Canadian friend's fury. "Food?"

Matthew stared at Kumajirou, almost glaring. But then the Canadian sighed, picking up his bear. Kumajirou sighed, closing his eyes and snuggling into the crook of Canada's arm.

"Yes, Kumachi, food," said Matthew with a small smile as he stroked Kumajirou's fur. The polar bear grunted to show that he heard. A chuckle escaped Canada as he stood, slipping his feet into his slippers.

"Seal...?" Kumajirou murmured as Matthew opened his bedroom door. Canada smiled.

"Oui, you can have seal for breakfast today Kumachan. Only today though."

"Mm," the bear replied sleepily, snuggling deeper into the Canadian's dark red robes.

**oOo**

"Kumajani, your seal's here!" Canada called from the kitchen. Earlier, as soon as the Canadian had reached the stove, the bear had taken off somewhere. Matthew had no clue where his polar friend went, but he didn't worry that much about it.

"Who're you?" Canada laughed at his friend as the polar bear walked in.

"Canada. Ca-na-da."

"Oh, ok. Food?"

"Oui. C'mere." The Canadian smiled, sitting down at the table. He took his seat on the far right, Kumajirou climbing atop the chair next to him.

"Here, eat up," Matthew said, sitting down the seal in front of his friend. As for himself, he had a large plate filled with at least five pancakes. Which was doused in an ungodly amount of maple syrup.

Kumajirou nodded, and was silent as he dug into his meal. He ripped the seal apart in clean strips. Matthew watched the bear in amazement. How his friend was more neater compared to most other polar bears, he had no clue.

"Alright, I guess I better eat before my pancakes get cold, eh?" Matthew asked. His friend was silent as he continued to eat the seal.

"Yeah," the bear finally replied as he swallowed a mouthful. "Eat."

"Oui," the Canadian said enthusiastically as he picked up his fork. Yet, as he prepared to dig in, his doorbell rang. He inwardly groaned, wondering who that could be.

"Hello?" he asked as he turned the knob and pulled the door open. He just slightly blanched at the sight of his brother. Alfred grinned, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

"Yo," he said happily. Then he walked in, strolling past his brother. Matthew rolled his eyes, but kept silent as he closed the door behind Alfred.

"Hey Mattie, I smell pancakes. You save any for me?"

"N-no, sorry Al, I-I didn't expect-You should've told me sooner..."

"I did."

Matthew blinked, then realized he was staring down at his slippers. Violet eyes darted up to meet striking blue ones.

"Y-you did?" he squeaked, his cheeks tinting just a slight pink. Since when did Al tell him this...?

"Yeah," Alfred replied, flopping down on a nearby chair. He dropped his bag next to him, staring at his brother. "Called you about an hour ago, but it went to your voicemail. Figured you were sleeping, so I just thought you'd check it when you got up."

"I-I'm sorry, Al, but I didn't see it..." The Canadian coughed again, feeling embarrassed. He usually didn't check his phone like other Nations, considering there wasn't many people that called him. It was usually only his boss that ever called him. France sometimes called once a week to check up on him, and Al did whenever he had something to complain about. And once in a great moon, England would call, but it was usually to ask about Alfred.

"It's ok bro," Alfred suddenly said, making the Canadian jump. "Anyway," he grinned as he pulled a McDonald's sack from his overnight bag, "I bought some food on the way here. I thought I'd save it for lunch, but hey, a burger's good for any time of the day."

"O-oh," the Canadian said lamely, a small smile on his face. "Th-that's good. I'll make it up for you later though Al, alright? I'll buy us some ice cream."

"Awesome," the American replied with a grin. "Thanks Mattie, and sorry for dropping by so suddenly."

"It's ok," Canada said with a weak smile as he picked up his brother's belongings and went to take them upstairs to the guest room, "But why are you here anyway?"

Almost as if someone had flipped an invisible switch, the atmosphere changed. A sudden tense feeling drifted between the two Nations as Alfred's eyes darted away, his grin fading to a solemn frown.

"A-Al?" Canada squeaked, his eyes wide, dropping the bag to the ground.

"Hm?" the American replied, his voice oddly robotic. Canada winced. What happened...?

"Wh-what's wrong?" he asked, his hand instantly on his brother's shoulder for comfort. Alfred shrugged it off, pulling his burger out and taking a bite out of it.

"Noffing," he said, his mouth full. He then swallowed.

"Al, you're bad at lying," Matthew said, his lips pulled down in a grimace. "C'mon Al, you can tell me anything. You know that..."

"Yeah, but..."

"But...?"

"..." The American was silent as he continued to eat his burger. Finally, his eyes looked back up and met Canada's.

"...It's just...Iggy...and...well...we had a fight." Alfred sighed as he put his unfinished burger back into the McDonald's bag. "You see, I went over to his house yesterday. He looked like something been bothering him at last week's meeting, so I thought I'd cheer him up, ya' know?"

The American paused, hesitant to tell his brother the rest of the story.

"A-and...?" Canada prompted, pulling another chair over so he could sit across from Alfred.

"Well...when I got there, at first, he was pretty calm, or at least as calm as he can get. Th-then we started talking. I asked him how his country was doing, and he said fine. Conversation got pretty awkward after that. Then I asked him what was up, and he didn't tell me."

"Al..." Canada's voice was slightly scolding as he spoke, "Did you try to pry in his business? You know that's wrong..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know Mattie, I'm not stupid. Anyway, I said that he should tell me, because I just wanted to cheer him up. I guess he thought I was prying, even though I said he didn't _have_ to tell me. So he flipped out. Like, _really_ flipped out."

"W-what'd he say?" Matthew stammered, fearing the answer. America blinked.

"Lots of crap. Like how I was an idiot, and shit like that. You know how awesomely heroic I am Mattie, and a hero doesn't take that crap lying down. So I started shouting at him back. It turned pretty graphic after that. We got into a major fist fight until France arrived because I guess he was worried like I am. Then he broke us up."

Matthew frowned. If his brother was telling the truth, why didn't Alfred have a single injury on him...?

"We both got pretty beat up after that," the American continued, "so much that I had to go to a stylist to cover up all my bruises and cuts and shit."

_Oh..._

"Al..." Canada murmured, bringing his thumb up so he could wipe a trace of the thick cover-up away. Under it, he found purplish-blue skin.

"Oh Maple..." he whispered in awe as he continued to wipe more of the makeup off. As he continued to do this, more and more bruises, along with minor cuts, began to reveal themselves. It sure didn't look like just a plain fist fight, by the looks of it...

Matthew's eyes darted up to meet his brother's, who seemed to notice the Canadian's worry quickly.

"Mattie, I know you're worried, but don't be. After all, if I'm a hero, which I am, I can handle stuff like this, right?" Alfred suddenly grinned, his cocky attitude returning.

Matthew blinked in surprise, but smiled.

"Oui, I suppose you're right."

"Oh yeah, and Mattie?"

"Hm?"

"Your bear's callin ya."

"Oh!" The Canadian squeaked, suddenly remembering his pancakes. Alfred grinned, pushing his brother towards the ktichen.

"Better hurry bro, or your bear will eat your food before you do."

**oOo**

"Alright, I'm gonna go use the shower," America said, sitting up and straightening his back. Canada sighed. He and Alfred had been eating ice cream, when the American dumped a spoonful of vanilla on himself. Thankfully, he had napkins nearby inside his McDonald's bag. But his neck was still sticky.

"Oui, you do that," Matthew said with a small smile as he picked up the discarded ice cream container. Alfred nodded before heading off towards the bathroom.

As soon as the American disappeared, Matthew's phone started ringing. He blinked, then went over to it.

"...France?" he murmured. His French father had already called him yesterday...

"H-hello?" Canada stammered as he answered.

"Bonjour~ mon cher Matthieu, 'ow is my little Nation?" Matthew blinked again. At least his Papa didn't sound distressed...

"I-I'm good. W-what about you Francis?"

"Aw, Matthieu, call me Papa, oui?" Canada sighed.

"Okay, okay. Sorry...Papa..."

"That's better. Now, 'ave you 'eard about the fight between Angleterre and l'Amérique?"

"Oui. Al actually came over to stay the night..."

"Hm? Now why is 'e there?"

Matthew frowned. Shouldn't the answer be obvious? Unless Alfred's story actually had a lot more holes than he thought...

"W-well...he probably just doesn't want...He probably just wants somewhere to steam off, eh?"

"Hm, perhaps, but I thought Angleterre called 'im to say that 'e was coming over to...ah...fix the damage, oui?"

"E-eh?" Matthew said, his violet eyes widening.

"Mm, I wonder if your brother is purposely ignoring Angleterre for some reason..."

"I-I don't know..." Matthew said weakly. "B-but I'll take him back home, even if I have to drag him, ok. So tell England that if he gets there and Alfred isn't there, that he'll be there soon enough, eh?"

"Oui, I'll tell 'im. Until then, adieu." And with that, the phone clicked dead. Matthew sighed as he pulled his phone away. The call-ended signal flashed in his face as he tried to contemplate his recent conversation with his French papa.

_'Alfred made it sound like a simple fight...and maybe it is, but for England to come out all the way to New York, just to apologize...'_

The Canadian's grip on the phone tightened just slightly. He had absolutely no clue what was going on exactly, but he had to get his brother and take him back home.

Even if he had to drag Alfred out kicking and screaming.

_'Well, I better get dressed,'_ he thought with a sigh, walking towards his bedroom.

**oOo**

"Kumachi!" Kumajirou frowned at the mention of his name. He blinked, then looked behind him to see Canada crouched down, staring at him as he gripped the corner of a wall.

"Who're you?" the bear asked as he made his way down the hall and towards his owner. Although he had no clue who this man was, and he'd normally stay away from people he wasn't familiar with, he couldn't help but trust him.

"Ca-na-da," Matthew said with a small smile. Kumajirou blinked, cocking his head as he stared at the Canadian.

"Oh," he finally murmured.

"Kumanji, I need your help," Matthew said as he pulled out a trout. Kumajirou's nose seemed to sense it before his eyes did. The bear pounced, landing on the Canadian's lap as he took the fish into his mouth. Canada chuckled, but the laughter died quickly into a fond gaze as Matthew began to stroke the bear's fur.

"Kumashi, can you help me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Anyway, once Al gets out of the shower and dressed, I'm going to take him home, alright? If he tries to resist, bite him. Not enough to really hurt him, but for him to get the message, ok? Sounds like a super easy plan, eh?"

"Yes," said Kumajirou in response as he swallowed the remains of the fish. "Easy."

"Good. I'll say Maple, if needed, and that'll be the signal. If it works, I'll give you more seal tonight, ok?"

At the mention of seal, Kumajirou's ears perked up, and he nodded.

"Alright. I'll do good."

"That's my good Kumapi," Matthew said with a chuckle as he patted his bear.

**oOo**

"Level up!" the game blared as Matthew continued to play it. His mind was distracted though, as he kept thinking about the situation between his brother and England.

Suddenly, he heard the steady spray of the shower cease. Followed by rustling.

_'Al must be done with his shower,'_ Canada thought as he continued to press the buttons on the game controller. _'Just a bit longer...'_

"Yo, Mattie, can you bring my bag in, I forgot to!" the American suddenly called, causing Matthew to squeak in surrpise and drop the controller. He inwardly groaned as he retrieved it and put the game on pause.

"Coming!" he called softly as he collected his brother's bag near the front door.

"Almost?" Kumajirou asked as he appeared around a corner. Canada blinked in surrpise, then nodded.

"Oui, almost." The bear nodded, making way for the Canadian as he took the bag to Alfred's room.

"Thanks bro," Alfred said when Matthew arrived and dropped the bag in front of him. Canada nodded, ignoring the fact that his brother was dressed in only a thin towel that barely concealed him. The American grinned at his brother as he picked out a white t-shirt, some jeans, and his signature bomber jacket.

"N-no problem," Matthew said with a small smile. "H-hey Al, I was talking with France, and he said that you and England-"

A sudden, surprised squeak escaped the Canadian as he was pushed back. Soon, he found himself on the bed, staring up at his brother, who was holding him down, and looked furious. He gulped under Alfred's glare.

"A-Al-"

"What'd he tell you?" the American growled. Matthew opened up his mouth to reply, but his voice seemed to be lost under his brother's fiery blue eyes.

"Dammit!" Alfred shouted before Matthew could form a proper reply. Canada squeaked again, flinching at his brother's outburst. "That...that was supposed to stay quiet! Doesn't France know that it's totally not cool to mess with other people's fights?"

"Al," Matthew seemed to finally regain use of his voice, "you shouldn't be the one talking. You and I know very well that you do that too." He sounded like a father scolding a child, but that was the least of his worries.

"I do it for a good cause though!"

"Papa was probably doing it for a good cause too, eh? You can't blame him. He's worried about you..."

"Pfft," Alfred snorted, rolling his eyes. "Right. He worries about _me_. France doesn't give a damn about me since he lost me to Iggy. He only cares about you, Iggy, and getting into people's pants."

"H-hey now-! You know very well that he wanted you as a little brother-!"

Before the Canadian could scold his brother, he found himself trapped under his brother's glare, his arms pinned down on the soft mattress beneath the two of them.

He wished he could look away from America's eyes right then. He never saw his brother so angry...just what was going on?

"Mattie," Alfred's voice was much softer now, and his furious glare melted down into a look of sadness. "What can I do? I know I'm a hero...but sometimes..." the American trailed off, his gaze darting away from his brother's.

Matthew stared up at him, then a small, gentle smile broke out on his face.

"Sometimes...the hero needs a break...eh?" he said, pulling one arm free from his brother's grip. He cupped Alfred's cheek, which was slightly drenched in tears. Matthew's eyes widened, but he dismissed it as he traced a few of the cuts that was on his tanned cheek.

"Yeah," Alfred murmured, leaning into the gesture of comfort.

"Al," Matthew's voice was still gentle, but somewhat stern at this point. Alfred looked up, blue eyes wide. Matthew continued, "You can fix it, but it's a matter of being mature or not on your part."

"What do you mean?"

"Talk with Arthur. Try to fix this. I don't know what's going on exactly, but when Papa called, he told me that England was going to go visit you."

"What?"

"Don't be an idiot."

"I'm not-!"

"Then go! You should've gone to England's in the first place!"

Alfred's eyes widened as he stared down at his brother in amazement. Matthew was steaming. His usual, kind baby face was tinted a dark red, and his eyebrows were arched forward until they were practically scrunching together.

"Wh-what?" he asked dumbly, his lips pulled down in a frown. Canada continued to glare.

"Al," he said, his voice a lot more stern than usual, "Go. I told Papa to tell England that you'll be there. Don't keep him waiting."

Silence drifted between the two, as America continued to stare down at his brother, his hand still gripped tightly on one of the Northern nation's arms.

Suddenly, Matthew pulled out of his grip, rolled out from under him, and hopped off the bed. He brushed himself off, straightening his hoodie out.

"Mattie-" Alfred began to say, but Canada cut him off. Matthew's voice still remained stern, but the familiar soft tone of his voice returned, relaxing the American's tense muscles just slightly. But he knew he wasn't off the hook...just yet.

"Al, I'm not speaking to you until you fix this, or at least attempt to fix this. You need to stop this game of yours. You can't expect it all to just be fixed after you stay a night here then go home."

"I never said-"

"You didn't have to. I love you Al, but you need to fix this with England. If you two keep this up, then..." The Canadian trailed off, his words lost, but he didn't need to continue, as he was sure Alfred knew what he was going to say.

"Just...fix it, ok?" he whispered. When he got no response, he walked out, hoping that Alfred would see sense eventually.

**oOo**

End of chapter 1.

How was it? Good, bad? xD

Anyway, reviews are loved, and the more reviews, the faster the update!

**Preview for Next Chapter:**

_"Oh Maple..." Canada murmured, cradling his head in his hands. Then, not two seconds later, there was a loud yelp. Matthew's eyes darted up, and to his surprise, he found Kumajirou's teeth sunk deep into France's left leg._


	2. Family

**Author's Note: **Chapter 2...2 days later! Haha;; But guys, I'm seriously having a ball writing this. I never knew Hetalia was so fun to write! At first, when I joined the fandom(I'm still kind of new orz), I had no idea how I was going to write fanfictions for this;; The fics I've read are so great, that I thought, 'How am I ever going to compare to these awesome authors?' I still think that to be honest, ;_;'' Everyone's just so great at writing these, and I'm sitting here like, 'Damn. I suck compared to you guys. ; A ;'

But Hetalia's super fun to write about! And the reviews I've gotten for the last chapter were amazing! Thanks guys :3 -hugs-

**Disclaimer: **Nope D:

**oOo**

"Game over!" Red letters that declared loss popped obnoxiously onto the screen. 'Aww' sounds of the crowd in the background soon followed. Canada growled in frustration, throwing the game controller down onto the ground. That was the third time he lost, dammit! How Alfred could stand to play these games and not get frustrated, he had no clue. Maybe Matthew just wasn't good enough...

Finally, he let out a long sigh in defeat, his eyes downcast as he picked up the remote. As he went to reset the game, his mind drifted back to his brother, who he had been trying to forget for the time being...

'Damn, I was hoping Al would get some sense and go over there instead of sulking here...' thought Matthew bitterly as he retreated back to the couch. He picked up the controller as the game's title screen appeared, replacing the gave over screen immediately. As much as Canada tried to bring his focus back to the game, he couldn't. The Canadian's grip tightened on the controller as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He wasn't getting anywhere.

"Mattie?" Canada jumped at the mention of his name. Almost immediately, his head turned so he could meet eyes with his brother. Red, scratchy skin surrounded the American's striking blue eyes. Yet, Alfred lifted his head, a serious expression set on his face. One that Canada rarely ever saw...

"A-Al?" Matthew stammered in surprise as he hopped up, dropping the controller once again. As he approached the American, he found that his brother had finally gotten dressed. A bag was slung over his shoulder. Not his overnight one, but a small one that said that wherever he was going, he was coming back.

"Mattie," Alfred repeated once he was facing his brother, "I'm going over there, alright?"

Canada blinked in surprise, but nodded, a warm smile forming on his lips.

"Okay, good."

"Yeah...but bro?"

"Hm?"

"Even if I do talk it out with Iggy, and we still hate each other...will you hate me?" Canada blinked in surrpise. He hadn't expected such a question. Violet eyes met anxious blue ones, which were expecting an answer.

"Of course not," Matthew finally said, a smile on his small lips as he laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'll never hate you Al. I get pissed at you a lot of times, but we're brothers, and brothers hating each other is just wrong, eh? Anyway, England doesn't hate you Al. He's just...angry. You know how his temper can get."

Alfred nodded weakly, his gaze dropping away. Canada's smile dropped a little at his brother's expression. He tried to send words of comfort to Alfred, but the American didn't get the message, by the looks of it...

"Yeah, guess you're right. Thanks Mattie. Later." The American then shifted the bag on his shoulder, and strolled past his brother, and out the door. Matthew waved weakly before the door closed, hoping that at least he could help his brother when he got back, if needed.

"Bite?" Kumajirou asked as he appeared around the corner. Matthew blinked in surprise as he turned to his friend. Suddenly, he laughed, bending down so Kumajirou could crawl into his lap.

"No, guess not Kumaga. Not this time. But don't worry, you'll still get your seal." Canada smiled as he stroked the polar's bear fur on his neck, a gesture that usually showed deep affection for his friend. Kumajirou stared up at him in response, his black orbs penetrating violet ones.

Finally, he asked, "Who're you?"

At that, Matthew laughed again. Louder, more joyous than before. He wasn't sure why, but he was happy, or at least happier than he was a few seconds ago.

"Canada. Ca-na-da," he said between chuckles. The polar bear continued to stare at him, but then his nose twitched, a sign that if he were human, he'd be smiling.

"Oh," he said, snuggling into the Canadian's arms once again, and drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

"Winner!"

"Yes!" Matthew shouted as the game declared him victor. He pumped his arms in the air triumphantly, a wide grin evident on his features. Kumajirou mumbled something sleepily that sounded a lot like 'quiet' before returning to his nap. It was late... the time? Matthew had no clue, but he didn't care. He finally won!

The Canadian closed his eyes, feeling peaceful as he leaned back into the couch next to his polar bear friend. He just needed to rest for a moment, to revel in the fact that he finally was victorious.

Yet, as soon as his muscles began to relax, the doorbell rang. Matthew sighed, his head tilting back. He just wanted to relax for a second...why did the doorbell always have to ring at the wrong time? However, he stood up, shrugging the sleepy, tired feeling off as he headed for the front door.

"Hello?" he asked somewhat tiredly as he pulled the door open. To his surprise, he found Francis standing there, a smirk on his face as he ignored the fact that he was in the bitter, blizzard-like cold. He didn't act like he was even freezing at all as he stepped in. Yet, once he was inside the Canadian's warm house, he shook his head, snowflakes falling off his golden locks.

"Bonjour, mon cher Matthieu, and 'ow are you this fine evening?"

"P-Papa?" said Matthew, his eyes wide in shock. "W-why are you..?"

"Long story, my dear. Please, come in 'ere, and I'll tell you, oui?" France said with a wink, walking towards the livingroom, his dark blue cape flowing behind him. Canada blinked, wondering why France of all people were here, but he shrugged it off and followed his papa.

Once in the livingroom, France plopped down in an isolated chair. He ignored the tv, which was still blaring the words, 'winner' across the screen.

As for Matthew, he took his usual seat next to Kumajirou, on the couch.

"S-so, what's wrong Papa?" the Canadian asked. Francis stared at him, studying the Canadian briefly before he answered.

"Well..." he started to say, "l'Am rique sent me. Turns out 'e and Angleterre 'ad another fight."

"What?" Matthew's eyes widened. No, they were supposed to make up! Not start another battle! What the hell was going on?

"Oui," Francis said gravely, toying with a loose strand of string straying off his cape. "It is sad, no?"

"W-what happened?" Matthew asked, his violet eyes wide, a grimace forming on his baby-face features. Francis mirrored the Canadian's frown, but went into an explanation.

"Well," he said, "When Angleterre got there, 'e was angry to find that l'Am rique wasn't there. That's when I called 'im to tell 'im that l'Am rique would arrive shortly. Thankfully, your brother did get there not too long after. I'm not sure what 'appened after that, but when I went there to check up on them...I found the two practically bleeding to death..."

"Wh-what...?" Matthew whispered, hardly daring to believe it. Francis nodded sadly, sensing the Canadian's disbelief, and affirming that what he was saying was true.

"Oui. I took them both to the 'ospital after that. Thankfully, since they are Nations, they should be 'ealed très bientôt."

"Oh Maple..." Canada murmured, cradling his head in his hands. Then, not two seconds later, there was a loud yelp. Matthew's eyes darted up, and to his surprise, he found Kumajirou's teeth sunk deep into France's left leg. Francis was shouting obscenities-some in English, others in French, both of which Matthew understood-as he tried to shake the bear off. Yet, Kumajirou kept a firm hold until-

"Kumasasi!" Matthew yelled, jumping up and running over to his bear. Kumajirou growled, releasing his grip on France's leg. The bear backed away, but still kept a suspicious glare focused on the swearing Frenchman.

Francis continued to curse, this time in French, under his breath as he examined the place where Kumajirou bit. Thankfully, there was no sight of blood, just small red marks that revealed that the polar bear did in fact bite him.

"You said bite when you said Maple," Kumajirou said innocently, turning to Canada. Matthew blinked, then laughed, shaking his head.

"Kumachi!" his voice was stern, but a note of humor was evident in his voice as he tightly held onto his polar bear.

"What?" the bear responded, his head tilted to the side in confusion. Canada did say that he had to bite when he said Maple, right? So why was he being punished? The bear just didn't get it...

"I told you that you didn't have to bite after Alfred left!"

"Oh, sorry. Forgot."

Canada sighed. He was definitely going to have to get his friend checked for his constant forgetfulness sometime.

"Sorry about that Papa. I meant that to be for Al, if he needed it."

"It's okay," Francis replied as he set his leg down gingerly. He sent a cautious glare at Kumajirou, but then set gentle eyes on the Canadian. "The bear didn't draw any blood, so there's no trouble, oui?"

Matthew chuckled, but it died quickly as he remembered why France was here in the first place. Francis sensed this, and his expression grew solemn as he cleared his throat, turning his head away so he could avoid the Canadian's intense gaze.

"S-so," Matthew stammered, his grip on Kumajirou tightening just barely, "A-are they conscious?"

"Oui," Francis answered immediately. He turned his head back towards Canada, but his blue eyes were staring at his boots, which were still slightly wet from outside. "I did. The doctors 'ad them both conscious after about 'alf an 'our. To be honest, they were surprised that l'Am rique and Angleterre 'ad were making such a quick recovery."

"I-I see..." Matthew said, gulping slightly. "S-so what'd they say once you saw them Papa?"

"Well, I told the doctors about the fight before 'and, so, thankfully, they 'ad the common sense to put the two in different rooms. I visited Angleterre first, and I could tell 'e was 'ealing already, as 'e started shouting...rude things at me, as always, oui?"

Canada lightly chuckled, and Francis smiled, but the feeble happiness that they got out of that died rapidly as France continued. He leaned back slightly in his chair, crossing his legs.

"We talked for a bit, and 'e kept saying that it was all l'Am rique's fault. I told 'im that wasn't completely fair, considering that it might've been some of 'is fault as well...but I'm afraid I may 'ave made it worse..." The Frenchman trailed off for a moment, a flicker of sadness evident in his blue eyes, but he continued nonetheless. Yet, this time, he seemed distracted as he began playing with a strand of his hair. As the strand twirled around his gloved finger, he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I left after that, and went to go visit l'Am rique. Alfred seemed 'appy to see me, at least. 'E grinned, as usual, and we started talking. It was casual at first, oui, but then 'e asked how Angleterre was. I thought that was odd, considering Angleterre's condition should've been the least of l'Am rique's worry because of their feud...but I told 'im that Angleterre was recovering at top speed. 'E actually seemed pretty 'appy to 'ear about that."

"Th-then?" Matthew asked. He kept a calm, patient expression on his face, but now, curiosity was overtaking his emotions. Now why should Alfred be worried if he was the one to cause England's injuries in the first place...?

"Well, then 'e told me to let you know where they were. 'E also mentioned that you can come visit 'im and Angleterre tomorrow," Francis finished, leaning farther back in the chair casually, resting his hands behind his head.

"That's all...?" Matthew murmured, his eyebrows arched forward. The Frenchman nodded, shrugging to emphasize the fact that he didn't know anymore than that. Canada licked his lips, his mind swarming with questions that he probably won't get answered until tomorrow when he saw the rest of his family, but he shook them off.

"By the way, Matthieu, may I stay 'ere for tonight? It's quite late, so..."

"Oui, Papa, you can stay," Matthew said with a small smile. "You know where the second guest bedroom is, eh? And there's extra pajamas and slippers in the closet, like always."

"Oui, merci," Francis replied, returning the smile as he stood, stretched his tired muscles, and took off. Canada sighed once the Frenchman was out of sight, flopping back onto the couch. He heard shuffing, which was probably France taking his boots off, but he didn't care.

"Tired," Kumajirou mumbled sleepily as he turned around so that he was resting on his back instead of his stomach. "Bed?" Canada's half-closed eyes darted down towards his friend as he folded his hands across his chest.

"Oui, Kumashi, bed," he replied with a yawn. Reluctantly, he stood up, looking at the clock out of the corner of his eye. It blared '2:27 AM' in green on the small screen, making the Canadian's jaw drop. Since when was it this late? No wonder he was so beat!

"C'mon Kumani," he said, picking up his polar bear. Kumajirou grunted, but snuggled into his owner's arm peacefully. Canada smiled at the affectionate gesture as he made his way up the stairs.

It definitely had been one long, tiring day, that was for sure.

**oOo**

Once Matthew reached his bedroom, he pulled his jeans off, not bothering to slip into his pajamas as he flopped into his bed, clad in only his t-shirt, signature red hoodie, and plain white boxers dotted with the maple leaf symbol of Canada. Kumajirou fell with him, landing onto the soft mattress with a thud. The impact made the polar bear's black eyes flutter open. He nudged out of Matthew's arm in response, moving to his side of the bed where he slept every night.

But then Canada screeched, as a pair of warm arms had snaked their way around his waist. Immediately, Matthew flipped on his lamp light, to find that his French father had somehow found his way onto his bed. Francis was almost completely naked, the only thing covering him at all was a pair of light blue boxers, and the dark red comforter of Matthew's bed.

"P-Papa?" the Canadian said in surprise, his cheeks dark red as he pulled away quickly. France groaned, his eyes fluttering open. Then they widened upon seeing Matthew. "Papa! What're you doing here? Why aren't you in the guest bedroom?"

Yet, the Frenchman was just as surprised as Matthew was. The two stared at each other before France broke out in a hasty explanation.

"I-I had no clue, Matthieu, I swear! I must've went into the wrong bedroom, oui? Désolé, I 'onestly didn't mean for this to 'appen!" Suddenly, France started swearing under his breath in incoherent French. "and I was 'aving such a wonderful dream too! Angleterre was so cute in his maid outfit!"

"Wh-what...?" Matthew stared at his papa, making sure that he was at least a foot away from him at all times. "P-papa! Don't say such things when you're near me!"

"Oui, désolé, désolé," France murmured embarrasedly, "I apologize Matthieu, I really do..."

Tense silence drifted between the two as Francis cradled his head in his hands, continuously muttering French curses as his tired mind tried to properly process the humiliating situation. Matthew stared at his papa, but smiled a bit, then broke out in a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" France demanded, his ears bright red with embarrassment. "I-I really didn't mean to do this to you Matthieu. If anything, I only do this to other Nations!"

"I-I-" Canada tried to say through his fits of laughter, tears in his eyes, "I-I know Papa, but it's just so funny!"

France sighed, rubbing his forehead, but then chuckled richly, putting an arm around the Canadian's shaking shoulders. Matthew continued to laugh, one of his arms holding his stomach as he tried to calm himself.

"S-sorry Papa, I-I didn't mean to laugh, eh? B-but I can't help it!"

"Heh, I can't blame you mon cher, it is quite funny, now that I think about it, oui?"

"Oui," the Canadian agreed as he finally managed to compose himself. Yet, a huge, goofy grin was still on his face as his eyes darted up to his papa. France was smiling as well, although a trace of embarrassment was evident in his features.

"Well, I suppose I'll get back to my own bed then, oui? Faites de beaux r ves, mon cher Matthieu." With that, France stood up, kissing the other Nation's forehead affectionately before he headed for the door.

"W-wait, Papa..." Canada mumbled as France turned the doorknob. Francis blinked, turning around to gaze at Matthew curiously.

"Hm? What is it Matthieu? Is something wrong?"

"N-non, I was just wondering...can you stay here, with me, for the night?" Matthew looked sheepishly up at his French father, his violet eyes anxious. He felt like such a child asking for this, but the words left his lips before he could think about it.

At first, France studied him for a moment, then a warm smile broke out on his tired face.

"Oui, for tonight." France chuckled, "Though, I 'aven't heard that in awhile. You don't know 'ow many times I 'ave offered to sleep with Angleterre for the night, and how many times he punched me in the face in response." Yet, the Frenchman shook his head, his blonde mane falling over his shoulders as he snuggled into the bed with Matthew. He pulled the younger Nation to his chest, burying his nose affectionately into Canada's curly hair.

Now that Matthew thought of it, asking for France to sleep in the same bed with him was probably one of the worst ideas he ever had, but yet, he knew that his papa, as much as a pervert he could be, wouldn't dare do anything to him tonight.

Both of them were just too stressed and worried.

They needed to be with each other, so maybe, worrying for their other relatives' relationship wouldn't be as painful.

Both of them knew it.

They just didn't say it.

Matthew smiled, leaning into his papa's warm embrace.

He just wanted to ignore the fact that he'd be facing America, and possibly England tomorrow.

He wanted to ignore the fact that he and France might end up in the middle of their feud in the end.

He wanted to ignore the fact that his brother and England were in the hospital, hating each other right now. Or at least England was hating Alfred. America, he wasn't too sure about...

He just wanted to freeze time right here and now. Snuggled into his papa's warm arms, a peaceful setting set among him.

'Maybe being invisible to the rest of the world does have its perks,' Matthew thought sleepily, a feeble smile placed on his features as he closed his eyes, a yawn escaping him.

As he began to drift off, though, another warm body snuggled up to him. He blinked, then looked down to see Kumajirou nudging his way into his arms. After a few seconds, the bear had succeeded in lifting Matthew's arm high enough so that he could crawl under it and lean against the Canadian's hoodie.

"Warm," the bear mumbled in a sleepy answer as he snuggled into the Canadian's chest, rubbing his nose against the hoodie's warm, cotton material.

Matthew stared at his friend in surprise, but he couldn't surpress the warm smile that filled his features as he buried his nose into Kumajirou's fur.

"Oui, warm," he murmured softly before drifting off into an easy slumber.

**oOo**

End of chapter 2.

Um, yeah, a little fluff for you Franada fans. :3 Don't expect much more though, as this IS a USCan story after all. XD

Anyway, written at..midnight? 1 AM-ish? Sorry about that, and my editing sucks balls, so yeah...forgive me if this chapter sucks. D: (I like this chapter a LOT better than chapter one though, LOL)

So, reviews? Comments? Kumajirou loves them all~ 3 *holds up Kumajirou*

And this'll probably be the last update until Saturday, or Sunday, or sometime next week. D: Sorry guys, school hates me/sobs I just had half of this chapter written when I wrote chapter one, so yeah;;

Anyway, thank you for reading!

**Translations:**

très bientôt=very soon

désolé=sorry

Faites de beaux rêves, mon cher Matthieu=Sweet dreams, my dear Matthew

**Preview for next chapter:**

_"Hm? Oh, yeah. Guess what?" Cuba asked, his voice showing nothing but excitement. Matthew wasn't sure why, but this suddenly set his nerves on end._

_"What?"_

_"Mexico called me earlier, and she said she heard about England's and that American bastard's fight?"_


	3. Conflict

**Author's Note:** DJFD;; SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE GUYS. ;A;

But, lots of things went on before I could update, and our Internet's been super screwy. OTL;; Along with that, an I got writer's block in the middle of writing this chapter. ._.;;

I'M BACK THOUGH. And I promise I'll start getting more regular, non-sporadic, updates soon.

But all my love goes towards the epic reviews I've gotten. ;A; 3333 /sobs

So thanks a ton guys! I love you all. ;U;(and thanks for the little critiques too. 3) -death hugs you all-

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!  
>(P.S. I got lazy and didn't revise this. So sorry if you come across some goofy mistakes. You also might notice a change in writing style somewhere along the line. I thought about rewriting the first part...but mehhh, I'll get to it later. XD *shot*)<p>

**Disclaimer:** Nope. :3

**oOo**

"Mm, get that, will you, mon cher?" Canada's eyes fluttered open at the sound of a voice. He blinked tiredly, using one of his arms to rub at his eyes.

A long, drawn out yawn escaped him as he stretched. Kumajirou grunted at him as he climbed out of Francis's arms and went over to his desk, where he usually did his work, to grab his phone.

"Hello?" he asked tiredly, his violet eyes just barely looking back to see Francis, the Frenchman's arms outstretched, his hair mussy and tangled.

"Yo," said a familiar voice. Canada could practically see the person on the other line grinning.

"Cuba!" he said happily. "I haven't talked to you in ages, eh? H-how are you?"

"I guess 'm alright," Cuba responded with a chuckle. "How about you?"

"Good," Matthew responded, plopping down onto his swivel chair. He sat his feet on his desk, slightly twirling to the left and right. "So, why'd you call?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Guess what?" Cuba asked, his voice showing nothing but excitement. Matthew wasn't sure why, but this suddenly set his nerves on end.

"What?"

"Puerto Rico called me earlier, and she said she heard about England's and that American bastard's fight?"

"Wh-what?" Canada quietly demanded, his voice just barely revealing his surprise and anger, "I-I mean, h-how...?"

A sigh escaped the Cuban on the other line. At first, it was silent, leading Canada to debate on whether Cuba was smoking a cigar right now or not.

Looking at the odds, he probably was.

"Well," Cuba finally said, "I guess Spain and some guy named Prussia heard about the fight from France when they managed to get him drunk one night while they were hanging out. Then Spain, when he met up with Argentina and a few other Latin American countries for a few drinks, told them. Of course, Puerto Rico soon heard afterwards, and she called me this morning to tell me about it. Weird, huh?"

"Wh-wha...?" Canada stared at his carpet, his eyes filled with disbelief as Cuba changed subjects and started talking about how much he wished England would beat up Alfred and throw him into a fire.

"S-so, does everyone know about it?" Matthew suddenly asked, cutting the Cuban off sentence as he was explaining how much he wanted to punch America himself.

"Guess so," Cuba replied. Then there was a long pause; he was probably smoking his cigar again, "I mean, the Prussia guy, Spain told us, is brothers with Germany, and you can guarantee he'll tell those one countries, Italy and Japan, right?"

"Oui," the Canadian stammered.

"Yeah, anyway, far as I know from Puerto Rico, Italy can't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it sometimes. That means that his brother, South Italy, I think, knows...along with the other countries that the Japan guy knows personally. Oh yeah, and isn't that Prussia guy dating that one country, er...Russia?"

"I-I think so, oui...I remember Russia telling me about their relationship not long ago when our bosses met for something...It's weird though. They're supposed to hate each other..."

"Mm, I see. I think they probably have one of those love-hate relationships."

"Urgh..." Matthew started to feel sick. Now the whole world, literally, knew about his brother's and England's fight! Not that he had any right to be worried about it, considering it wasn't his fight...but stilll...

"Well," Cuba said after awhile, "I think Mexico's calling. She probably heard about it too. Later."

"B-bye..." Canada murmured. Then the Cuban's end went dead. A long sigh escaped Matthew as he set his phone down.

"Oi..." he murmured, massaging his head. "When did things get like this?"

"Mm, what's wrong Matthieu?" came Francis's voice as he approached the Canadian. Matthew glared at his papa, feeling slightly betrayed, and very furious.

"Papa! You weren't supposed to tell anyone!" he shouted, slamming his phone down on his desk. Francis blinked in surprise, backing away slightly, his hands held up in a defensive gesture. That didn't stop Matthew from stomping up to the Frenchman angrily though. He grabbed his papa's shoulders, a low growl coming out of his throat.

"M-Matthieu?" France stammered. This was so out of character for the Canadian. Granted, he could get angry, but he was never_ this_ angry. Unless it had to do with something like hockey, or his bear.

"How could you? I know that you're friends with Gil and Antonio, but still!" Matthew gripped Francis's shoulders hard before finally releasing them and flopping down onto his bed. He covered his face with his hands, a low groan escaping him.

"Matthieu. Listen to me." Francis said, his voice more serious than usual. Canada sat up, glaring angrily. "You shouldn't be mad at me. After all, mon cher, it was never your business in the first place. Both l'Am rique and Angleterre know I'm telling other nations. They don't seem to mind in the slightest."

"That's only because they're too angry at each other to care about what _you_ do!" Matthew retorted. "I know my brother, Papa, and-"

"As well as I know mine," Francis said, cutting him off. Matthew opened his mouth, but hesitated, then closed it. France took this as a signal to continue. He sighed, plopping down in the swivel chair and massaging the bridge of his nose. "Cherie, we nations fight all the time. It's natural for the majority of us to 'ear about it through rumors. It'll die down soon, and both l'Am rique and Angleterre will go back to their previous relationship, oui? Remember when your brother went through that whole Manifest Destiny thing? 'Ow he and Mexico faught tooth and nail?"

"...Oui..."

"Well, this is no different. We all 'eard about it back then, and l'Am rique knew better to get upset about it. And you shouldn't either."

"Then...what are they fighting about?" Matthew asked, his voice soft. A hint of anger was still evident, but the heated flame of it had died down to barely an ember. "I'm still confused and-"

"We all are. I tried asking them both about it, but they refused to tell me in whole detail about what their fight was. It actually concerns me, to be 'onest."

"I thought you said that the fight would just die down!"

"Oui. Or at least...I 'ope it will. I can't tell how serious the fight is. Maybe I'm just taking for granted 'ow bad it really is..." France trailed off, pulling his hair out of his face. His eyes were closed as he began to lose himself in his own thoughts.

"...I'm going to get dressed. You should too. I'm going to check up on the both of them, and hopefully find out just what this fight is all about."

"Oui."

After that short exchange, the two Nations dispersed. France got up, and made his way to the bathroom. Canada retreated towards his closet, digging out some casual-wear and a heavy jacket.

As he slipped on his signature red hoodie, he promised himself one thing: He was going to find out just what his brother and England were fighting about, even if it killed him.

**oOo**

"Food?" Kumajirou padded his way up to his owner, his black eyes pleading for a snack. Canada blinked, looking down at his friend. He was down in the kitchen, making a quick breakfast of toast and coffee for him and his Papa.

"Oh! Sorry Kumasi. Forgot all about you, eh?" Matthew laughed weakly, leaning down to pet his bear on the head, behind the ears which usually made Kumajirou growl in satisfaction. "I'll make you some pancakes before I leave, and I promise to stop at the fish market on the way back from the hospital, ok?"

"Ok," the bear replied, crawling up onto a kitchen chair. He placed his paws on the finished wooden surface, waving his back legs in the air for a minute until he found the momentum to climb up onto the chair.

As he sat himself onto the seat, France walked in, fully dressed, and this time, with a coat slung over his arm. He smiled as he smelled food, his stomach already rumbling slightly.

"Ah, that smells great, Matthieu. I raised you well."

Matthew stared at France, then laughed.

"Oui. You have. Thank you," he said. "So, will you take butter or honey on your toast, or no?"

"'Oney," France replied, plopping himself across Kumajirou. The bear cocked his head curiously, staring at the French nation at first before just curling up on his chair for a quick morning nap.

"Alright. Coffee?"

"Black. Just black for now."

Canada nodded, turning around. In his hands was a cup of coffee, and a plate of toast, which was drowning in honey.

"Merci," Francis said as Matthew sat the breakfast down in front of him. Canada smiled, a small nod coming from him in reply.

"Alright, I'll get started on Kumachi's breakfast, then we'll leave, ok?" he asked as he stuck a piece of toast(which was covered in maple syrup)into his mouth. France nodded in response as he sipped his coffee.

"Oui. Sounds good."

Comfortable silence followed the brief conversation between the two, the only sounds filling the kitchen being of pancakes frying, Kumajirou snoring, and toast being munched on quickly.

"Alright Kumakun, wake up." Canada shook his friend a bit, jolting the bear awake. Kumajirou blinked, looking up at his owner, who had a plate of pancakes in one of his hands.

"Who?" he asked tiredly, sitting up slightly. Matthew laughed.

"Canada," he replied, placing the pancakes on the table. Kumajirou dug into it quickly.

"Oh," he said as he chewed on a piece.

Matthew laughed, petting his friend's head, then continued to stare fondly at the bear while he ate.

"Matthieu." Canada jumped upon hearing his name, and looked up towards France, who sipped his coffee nonchalantly before continuing. "I know that you said we'd leave after breakfast, but to be 'onest, I think it'd be best to leave now."

The older nation's eyes flickered up to meet Matthew's, dead serious-ness flaming within them. Matthew blinked, then nodded hastily, a bit dazed by the sudden question.

"I-I guess. But why?" he asked. France shrugged, a grimace on his features.

"Well...call this-ah, what do you North Americans say? Oh, oui-corny, but I 'ave a bad feeling about those two if we don't get there fast enough."

"..." Matthew blinked, staring at his papa. He considered the idea, but glanced back at Kumajirou, who was halfway through his food already.

"...Alright," he agreed. "Let's go."

France nodded, standing up. The chair scooted back loudly, which sent an unpleasant screech through the air. Both Matthew and Kumajirou flinched.

"Desole ," France said, a frown forming upon his features. Matthew shook his head, laughing nervously.

"It's alright Papa. Let's just go, shall we?"

"Oui."

Immediately, the Frenchman headed for the front door, his blue cape flying behind him. Yet, before he could even turn the knob, Canada threw something at him.

"Ah! M-Oh!" He paused upon seeing a thick coat in his hands. Matthew walked out of the kitchen, a small smile on his lips as he grabbed his cellphone off a nearby end table, along with his car keys.

"You didn't come with a coat last night, and today is supposed to be colder than yesterday, so..."

"Oui, merci." France grinned, throwing the coat over his shoulders. It wasn't the best looking, but it was effective.

"Now, let's go, eh?" Matthew asked as he reached the front door, hand on the knob. France nodded immediately in response.

"Oui," he said.

Matthew opened the door.

**oOo**

"Alfred Jones and Arthur Kirkland, correct? They are in room..." the nurse trailed off, her red lips pursed out slightly as she studied a clipboard. France grew impatient, tapping his foot like an uncontained child. They had a long flight here from Quebec, causing the Frenchman to grow jittery and a bit overexcited. Patience wasn't his main priority right now.

"15," he said, "and 17. On the fourth floor."

"Oh, right. Yes, those two are available for visitors at the moment." She smiled politely, gesturing to the nearby elevator. France nodded, then headed towards it.

"Thank you," Matthew said kindly, a small smile on his face before he went to follow his papa. The nurse waved in response, then went back to her work.

"Calm down Papa, will you?" Canada urged quietly. Francis ignored him, insistently pressing the button that said '4' on it.

"Can't," he finally replied as the elevator started going. "I'm worried, oui?"

Matthew sighed, figuring that'd be his papa's excuse.

"Oui. I am too. But you need to slow down. I can barely keep up."

"...Right. Desole," France sighed. "I should be the fatherly one 'ere, and I'll act like it."

"Thank you," Matthew said as the elevator came to a stop. France smiled as the doors opened.

"Well, let's go then, oui?" he asked. Canada nodded, then proceeded to follow his papa out of the elevator.

"...It's sure empty in here for a hospital, eh?" Matthew whispered as he looked around. France shrugged, looking anxious to get to his destination, but kept pace with Matthew at the same time.

"Oui. It is," he finally said after a few moments' silence, "I've been thinking Matthieu. 'ow about I go visit l'Angleterre, and you go visit your brother? It'd make this a lot more easier."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," Matthew agreed. He was actually secretly grateful for this for two reasons. One reason being was that since he already had Alfred stay with him last night, maybe his brother would be more willing to open up about the situation. And two, Arthur was scary. There wasn't much more of an explanation needed than that. France had a better immunity to Arthur's anger than any other Nation that Matthew knew. Well, except for Alfred, but that brother of his could barely read the atmosphere. So when England was angry, he hardly noticed it until he was down on the ground with hands around his neck.

As the two approached the intersection where it would lead to the two different rooms, Francis turned to Matthew, a small smile on his lips.

"Well, wish me luck," he said, laughing half-heartedly. Matthew returned it, nodding.

"Oui. Good luck Papa. I'm sure Arthur will be easier to talk to by now, eh?"

"I suppose," France said thoughtfully. "Well, I better be off. It probably isn't wise to keep 'im waiting. Au revoir~" And with that, he was off down the hall that lead to the right. Matthew followed his footsteps for awhile before turning away with a sigh.

'I better get going too,' he thought as he walked in the direction of his brother's bedroom.

**oOo**

"Mattie!" Canada gave his brother a small smile as he walked in. Alfred seemed to be faring well, or at least, better than Matthew thought. He sported a black eye and a large bandage on his left forearm, but otherwise, he looked like he was doing fine.

"Hey Al, how're you holding up?" asked Matthew. He sat in one of the chairs that sat at the foot of his brother's bed.

"Great!" Alfred replied with a grin. "Doc says I'll be able to leave later today."

"That's good," Matthew said, patting his brother's knee gently. Alfred nodded.

"So, uh, how are things between you and Arthur?" Matthew ventured. Alfred's grin faded. Matthew gulped. Had he done something wrong?

"Um...not so hot, I guess," Alfred said sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. He looked away then, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Matthew felt guilt rush through him.

"...It's okay. You guys...fight all the time, eh? I'm sure you'll make up eventually," Matthew said comfortiningly, holding his brother's hand for comfort. "This'll pass before you know it, and everyone will forget about it. Just like always."

"You don't understand Mattie. I really screwed up," Alfred said quietly. Matthew's eyes widened, yet, despite the worry for his brother, something in the back of his mind kept nagging him-but what?

"...What do you mean?" he asked. Alfred shrugged in response, looking like he wanted to disappear through the floorboards. As Alfred started to play with his jacket zipper instead of answering, Matthew found out what kept bothering him.

"...I thought you said that it was something to do with Arthur," he said quietly. Alfred looked up alarmingly, a bit startled by the question.

"Huh?" he asked dumbly. Matthew frowned, gripping his brother's hand harder. Alfred winced.

"You said that this fight started when you went to visit Arthur, Al. You said that something kept bothering him, but he wouldn't tell you, and, and-" Matthew cut himself off. He took in a deep breath.

_Steady, Mattie._

"I'm sorry," Matthew mumbled. "But Al...did you lie?"

"...Yeah," Alfred admitted. He squirmed in his bed, covering his face with the thin, cotton hospital blanket. "...I really, ireally/i screwed up Matt."

"...What do you mean?" Matthew asked, releasing Alfred's hand. Instead, his palm went up to Al's forehead. He ran his fingers through the sunny locks in a comforting gesture, his thumb catching on that uncontrollable cowlick.

"...Mattie, you gotta promise me though. Y-you won't judge me, a'right?" Alfred looked at his brother pleadingly, and his expression resembled that of a lost puppy so much that it shouldn't of been legal to look that cute. Matthew lost any power to say no.

"...Oui. I promise." Matthew halted his fingers, letting them rest upon Alfred's forehead. At first, Alfred looked away, hesitant, but turned back around to face his brother. He sucked in a breath.

"Well...I...I...Mattie. I slept with a human." The way Alfred said it, it seemed like he had nuked the moon or something. Matthew stared at him.

"...Al. You're really an idiot. I mean, Nations have always slept with humans. It's natural-"

"No, I mean, _I got her pregnant._"

"...Al. You didn't." Matthew's fingers curled up into a fist, taking some of Alfred's strands of hair into them. Alfred winced, but nodded. Matthew narrowed his eyes, his light amethyst eyes turning a deadly, deep violet. "You _know_ that it's taboo to sleep with a human without protection!"

"I-I know, Mattie, but-"

"But what?" Matthew asked, cutting Alfred off. He gritted his teeth, not sure whether to be angry or worried for his brother.

He figure he'd go for the former. But before he could even begin to lecture Alfred-

"...I also fell in love with her."

Silence.

Matthew's anger seemed to disappear completely. What it was replaced with-he didn't know. His grip loosened on his brother's hair, and he let his hand fall to his side.

Alfred stared at him, unsure of what was to happen next. That was the thing about Matthew. When he was calm, which was 99% of the time, he was never a threat. He was never one to be worried about. And he was usually pretty rational. Maybe that's why he was forgotten frequently. He was such a pushover, and less of a fighter...And because of that, no one felt like they should pay any worry or attention to him. To be honest, he wasn't that much of an enemy. But whenever he was angry, it was hard to predict what he would do.

And some of the times, the damage he could create could even match _Russia's_ strength.

Alfred hoped that it wasn't one of those times.

"...Matt?"

"...Very funny Alfred." Matthew smiled, a bit fake at best. Alfred winced. Matthew laughed. "You really got me going there bro, eh? Heh...and I always thought you were dense. You're actually pretty clever,eh?"

Oh dammit. He was in denial.

"Mattie..."

"No. It's hiliarious Al. I'm sorry to say that Arthur didn't get your joke though. Hah. Maybe I should tell him, eh?"

"Mattie!"

"In fact, I should tell everyone at the annual World Conference tomorrow about your little 's coming up tomorrow! Remember? It'll be a riot!"

"_Mattie_! Stop!" At this, Alfred sat up. He winced at the sudden movement in his arm, but ignored it and grabbed Matthew's shoulders. Matthew looked up at him, eyes wide with innocence and curiosity.

"What is it Al? Your arm hurt or something?" he asked. Alfred felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but he shook them off.

"I'm serious Matt! Listen to me goddammit!"

"Al...but you're joking-"

"No I'm not! Geez. You're as bad as Iggy! This was how he reacted, and then we fought. And now you'll fight me...and then I'll be alone, but Iggy will-" Alfred took in a deep, shaky breath. He closed his eyes, tightening his grip on Matthew's shoulders until the Canadian winced.

"I'm sorry Alfred."

Alfred looked up, only to see his brother staring at him with a grimace on his face. Truthfully, Matthew did hate this, and didn't want to believe his brother...fell in love with a human, as it could very well get him kicked out of the World Conference. That alone could very well hurt his country.

"I really am," he said with a sigh. He stood, taking his brother's arms and helping him sit back down. "I should've taken you seriously. This...isn't something to joke about...But...you know this can't stay secret."

"Whoever said it was a secret?"

Matthew jumped at his brother's response. He glanced over at Alfred, who's only expression was dead-seriousness.

"I never _said_ it was a secret. Or...at least anymore." Alfred's mouth thinned. He looked away from Matthew again. Matthew was beginning to hate that reaction.

"...What do you mean?" he asked gently, taking Alfred's hand in his again. Alfred bit his lip.

"Iggy. He said that he'd tell everyone in the World Conference tomorrow. So it's technically not a secret anymore."

Matthew's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in shock.

"B-but...England wouldn't do that. Or at least...to you."

"Why?" Alfred asked, his blue eyes narrowed. Matthew squeaked, but gulped and stared back at his brother.

"Because he cares about you!" he exclaimed. Alfred seemed unfazed by Matthew's statement.

"That's the reason why he's doing it though, isn't he?"

Matthew blinked in surprise, staring at Alfred with wide eyes.

"...W-wha...?"

"Listen, think about it Mattie. If he tells everyone at the World Conference, then I'm kicked out, right? That means, I won't be able to create alliances, have any connections with any other countries other than exporting and importing, if I'm lucky. And...well...if I'm put into a war situation, which I'm in, no country will want to help me. If anything, they'll want to help the opponent. The only country that'll give a damn about me is Iggy and maybe you. He'll help me, but then there will come a price with that. I'll have to become his colony again."

"B-but that was years ago Alfred!" Matthew said. "I know that he still loves you and all, but still! Arthur would've dropped it by now."

"He has. But that doesn't mean that he'll abandon the chance to gain control over me. I mean, we're countries for God Sake's Mattie. If you got the chance to take over a country, would you?"

"I-I..."

"...Y-yes..." Matthew finally said quietly. "I mean, I'm not obsessed with gaining countries' loyalty like Russia is, but...yeah. Naturally I'd want to take that chance. It'd help my economy anyway."

"Exactly. It's not the matter of me being his former colony. It's the matter of me being more land. The past-colony thing is really just a bonus."

"Don't say that. You know he cares for you."

"I know. But as a country, his-no, iall/i of our main priorities are...well...our people. Not other countries. As long as our people are happy, we are. Same goes for Iggy. I'm just the icing on the cake."

Matthew grew silent, unsure of what to say. He shuffled his feet nervously.

"What're you going to do?" he asked after a moment's silence. Alfred sighed, contemplating the possiblities.

"Well, the only logical situation is to break up with her. But...Mattie, I can't."

"Al-"

"I seriously can't Mattie," Alfred cut him off. "Don't say that this is just something that'll pass. It iisn't./i It...isn't..."

"...Maybe, but Al...this is dangerous." Alfred looked up to meet Matthew's gaze. Matt was frowning, whether it was in disapproval or concern, Alfred couldn't place.

"...I know," he finally said. "But Matt..."

"Does she even know that you're a nation?" Matthew asked, cutting his brother off. Alfred paused, looking hesitant, but after a few moments, nodded. He bit his lip.

"...If you really love this human, you know you need to tell her eventually Al," Matthew said. He tried to feel angry at his brother, frustrated, or something...but...he couldn't. His gaze softened.

"...Dammit," Alfred suddenly murmured. Matthew sighed, slinging an arm around the other nation's shoulder. He pulled him close, a sympathetic smile playing on his face.

"I can't tell you it'll be ok. Yet. But either way, I'm here for you bro. I'm here."

**oOo**

End of chapter 3

d;fjd; Sorry for not having any CanAme action yet guys. ;n; But I'll get to it eventually. :D For now though, enjoy the angst, drama, and melodramatic-ness. XD And the bromance(which'll turn into romance eventually) between Matt and Al. 3

**Translations:**

mon cher=my dear

Cherie=dear

Desole=sorry

**Preview for next chapter:**

"Privyet, Matvey!" Matthew jumped, turning around swiftly to see...Russia? The nation grinned. Matthew blanched.

"O-oh! U-um, bonjour Ivan..." Matthew nervously mumbled. The taller nation laughed, sending shivers up Matthew's back. His grip tightened on Kumajirou, who winced. "Er...ah...what do you need?" Matthew dared to ask after a moment's silence.

"Kolkolkolkol. Matvey's funny, asking me a question that I'm sure he knows about already. I just wanted to know, are you aware of your brother's current situation?"


End file.
